Sgt Dionne Warwick
by planetkiller
Summary: AU. “You know how, it is...You go to an alien planet play with some cool artifacts your secondincommand becomes psychic.revamped complete
1. One

**A/N:** This is my first SG fic ever. I came home from the A.P. exam from hell and it was just screaming to come out. AU, because the only thing I ever remember them saying about SG-10 was they were the team that got sucked into the black hole. Obviously, this SG-10 is not that team. I'm thinking that they were probably the 'lost' team's replacements. Also, if SG-10 was investigating a black hole, I doubt they were a black ops unit. This SG-10 changed functions about the same time they were replacing the old team. Yes, Manda, Dionne Warwick is the psychic lady with the friends. Also, slight spoiler for Atlantis episode "38 Minutes." Slight as in, if you haven't seen it, you won't notice the spoiler.

This is unbetaed so I'm fairly certain all the characters you know and love are gonna by OOC. Tell me. I really want to get this right, so if my Jack does something stupid, tell me. Or if you don't like something. Or anything. Since I'm new at this I want you guys to help. Just be polite about it. Several people have given me ideas, so I've reworked it and am reuploading it. It's basically the same, but it's set up the way it is on my LJ. That means don't freak about it having more chapters, it's just the same chapters in smaller pieces.

On a totally unrelated matter, aren't all fanfics AUs? I mean, if we had to write them, it obviously didn't happen on the show and as such isn't canon.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Stargate. Gekko does. (That always makes me think of the little lizard with the British accent.) Some other people own it as well. They are all much richer. The basic ideas for this fic came from Danvers and Anais. Read the SG-15 stuff and Dr. Jackson's Diary. They are hilarious. Somebody warned me so I decided to put a blanket thing on all my stories (het, slash, gen,) Please, bring an open mind. Remember, everyone's life is not the same.

* * *

When I finally found my 2IC, she was standing in the control room talking calmly with Sergeants Siler and Davis. On any normal day, that wasn't even worth mentioning. It seemed that all she, Davis, and Siler did was talk: about the 'Gate, about the computers, about any number of very complex and extremely confusing things. But, since I'm mentioning it, obviously today was not any normal day. 

Slowly, using every bit of my black op training, I snuck up on her; hoping that Siler and Davis wouldn't do anything to alert her to my presence. Fortunately, they were both too busy talking to even notice that I was in the room, let alone notice my strange actions. _Think clear thoughts,_ I kept reminding myself as I crept close enough to hear the conversation.

"...at least that's what Major Carter says..." she stopped in the middle of the sentence. Crap; she heard me. Before she could move, I lunged and pinned her arms around her waist. Have you ever tried to hold a squirming person still while attempting to duct tape their hands together? Take my word for it, it's not a fun experience. Especially, if the person in question is cursing in three different languages. I don't speak French, Arabic, or Goa'uld; but trust me, she was cursing. "Fichue Ha'taaka!" Okay, that I understood. A French word for "Damn" followed by the Goa'uld word for something I'm fairly certain is the equivalent of "Bitch." _Hey, who's she calling a damn bitch?_ I wondered as I dragged her out of the control room. Or at least, attempted to drag out. She had managed to get her duct-taped hands around something that was more solid than I was strong.

"Sergeant, do something! I don't care which one of you! Help!" I ordered while struggling to keep her from kicking me. Siler came over and delicately began unhooking her. At which point, she did the weirdest thing I've ever seen her do. My 2IC became very calm, looked Sgt. Siler straight in the face and whispered.

"Major Carter."

"Good try, Sarge. She isn't here," and I started pulling her back toward the door. It took her a bit longer than it should have to register what was going on, but when she did, Sarge started fighting like a wild woman. As I finally pulled her out the room, Sarge began shrieking at the top of her lungs. _Whatever possessed her to start yelling about raspberry yoghurt? _I thought while trying to figure out how far it was to the infirmary.

"Siler and no infirmary!" Sarge interjected before going back to yelling about how close she was to finding out about raspberry yoghurt. A portion of my mind began wondering if there was even such a thing as _raspberry_ yoghurt. If there was, I'd never seen it.

People were staring at the noise and then, as they realised who it was, turning back to their work. We both took it in stride; we're used to it. They think we don't know what they call us. We know. And honestly, none of us mind being 'the Wackos with the Grenades', even if I don't particularly care for the term 'wackos.'

"What is going on here, lieutenant?" a voice asked. I turned to the sound and stared. An extremely hot major in dress blues was staring at me and Sarge. Obviously, he'd never met SG-10 before. Sarge became curiously calm and quiet; I took the opportunity to set her feet back on the ground.

"It's a very long story, Major..."

"Major Paul Davis, Pentagon liaison to the SGC," my Adonis said. I briefly wondered about the prevalence of the name 'Davis' at the SGC before opening my mouth to tell him my name. Sarge made sure to stop all conversation before I could do that, though.

"ARGHHH! STOP THINKING, YOU DIRTY, DIRTY, LITTLE MAN!"

"Sarge, he can't stop thinking. How can you seriously ask him to stop thinking?" I asked as she settled back into a state of calm. "You know how, it is, Major Davis," I addressed my Romeo. "You go to an alien planet; play with some cool artifacts; your second-in-command becomes psychic. Pre..." Suddenly, a horrible sound like duct-tape being unstuck came from my right. As one, we turned to face my 2IC, who was unsticking the duct-tape. "Sarge, how the hell are you getting out of the duct tape?" She grinned and before she could say 'I'll never tell.' I had hold of her and was force marching her to the infirmary.

"NO! NOT THE INFIRMARY!" Sarge shrieked with renewed vigor.

"Yes, the infirmary. You still haven't had your post-mission physical and we have to figure out why you're like this," I said firmly-but-gently; showing my extreme restraint and patience, if I do say so myself.

"BUT WE DON'T _WANNA_ WATCH JANET MOLESTEZ SG-1!" Sarge shrieked vehemently.

"Molest SG-1?" I asked amazed.

"What would you call prostate exams after every mission?"

I honestly didn't have an answer.

* * *

Please, remember: any criticism should be constructive. 


	2. Two

**A/N:** This is my first SG fic ever. I came home from the A.P. exam from hell and it was just screaming to come out. AU, because the only thing I ever remember them saying about SG-10 was they were the team that got sucked into the black hole. Obviously, this SG-10 is not that team. I'm thinking that they were probably the 'lost' team's replacements. Also, if SG-10 was investigating a black hole, I doubt they were a black ops unit. This SG-10 changed functions about the same time they were replacing the old team. Yes, Manda, Dionne Warwick is the psychic lady with the friends. Also, slight spoiler for Atlantis episode "38 Minutes." Slight as in, if you haven't seen it, you won't notice the spoiler.

This is unbetaed so I'm fairly certain all the characters you know and love are gonna by OOC. Tell me. I really want to get this right, so if my Jack does something stupid, tell me. Or if you don't like something. Or anything. Since I'm new at this I want you guys to help. Just be polite about it. Several people have given me ideas, so I've reworked it and am reuploading it. It's basically the same, but it's set up the way it is on my LJ. That means don't freak about it having more chapters, it's just the same chapters in smaller pieces.

On a totally unrelated matter, aren't all fanfics AUs? I mean, if we had to write them, it obviously didn't happen on the show and as such isn't canon.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Stargate. Gekko does. (That always makes me think of the little lizard with the British accent.) Some other people own it as well. They are all much richer. The basic ideas for this fic came from Danvers and Anais. Read the SG-15 stuff and Dr. Jackson's Diary. They are hilarious. Somebody warned me so I decided to put a blanket thing on all my stories (het, slash, gen,) Please, bring an open mind. Remember, everyone's life is not the same.

* * *

_The infirmary should be a lot closer to the 'Gate room_, I found myself thinking as I marched Sarge into the room in question. 

"No, it shouldn't," she said waspishly as I led her to her bed. That's right _her_ bed. People often joked about Dr. Jackson and Col. O'Neill having their own beds reserved. Sarge actually had one that she had claimed and got extremely offended if she found anyone else in it. Now that we were actually in the infirmary, my 2IC was amazingly calm, even if she did have a resigned air about her. I watched as she perked up at something over my shoulder.

"Sgt. Siler!" she called. I turned and looked at a bewildered looking Major Sam Carter as she came out from behind a privacy curtain.

"Good try, Sarge. He isn't here."

"Raspberry yoghurt." Now it was my turn to look at Sarge like she was nuts. "Oh, gods. What is it about raspberry yoghurt?" I spun back around and stared at Carter. She had turned bright pink and made a dash for the door. The male members of SG-1 sat on the beds directly across from Sarge and gave me the same confused look that I knew I was giving them. "It'll come to the surface, sir! Just you wait!"

"She can't hear you, Sarge. Major Carter's in Tijuana by now." I muttered as I heard the tinkling laughter that meant Dr. Fraiser was nearby.

"Davis," she greeted me warmly pulling the privacy curtains around my 2IC's bed. "Thank you for looking for her. Where did you find her?"

"Control room talking to Siler and Davis. Had a hell of a time getting her back here. I'm fairly certain I have bruises on my bruises. And she nearly attacked a Major Paul Davis."

Dr. Fraiser tisked sympathetically before handing patient scrubs to Sarge and becoming the CMO. "When did this happen?"

"The attacking Major Davis? About..."

"The telepathy."

"I'm pretty sure it started on the planet. But none of us realised anything was going on until we got on this side of the 'Gate." I said looking as a nurse patched the particularly nasty bruise on Teal'c's arm.

"That's what Jamie said," Dr. Fraiser said as she turned toward Sarge as my psychic friend pulled the curtains back. "Can you think of any particular thing you may have touched on the planet that could've done this?"

"No, sir. Everything we touched, everybody else touched. Are we the only one exhibiting symptoms?" Sarge asked pulling at the ill-fitting top.

"So far, yes." Dr. Fraiser pulled out the clipboard. "Sorry, honey, but you know the drill." She took down particulars before trying to think things at Sarge. After the tenth thing my 2IC knew, Dr. Fraiser gave up. "I'm sorry, Alien. I know how much you hate him, but I think I may need to call Dr. MacKenzie."

"NO! HELL NO!"

"Sorry, but I'm doing it no matter what you say."

"WE'LL LEAVE! THINK WE WON'T!" I noticed one of the nurses talking to Teal'c and moved out the way acting like I was afraid of Sarge. "NO! PAS VOUS ESSAI IL!" No clue what that means, but obviously, the jig was up since the psychic moved to get up. Teal'c quickly moved across the infirmary and held my 2IC down to the bed so the nurses could put the restraints on her. Sarge continued to shriek in French with a random Arabic word every now and then. I didn't understand the first word of it, but judging by the look on Dr. Jackson's face, I didn't want to.

"I'm very sorry, Alien, but it's for your own good," Dr. Fraiser said as she motioned me to follow her. We climbed the stairs that led to the observation deck. I've never understood why anyone felt they needed to be able to look at sick people who weren't in surgery or isolation, but I suppose that's why I'm the explosive expert and not the medic.

"I'm worried; I haven't been able to draw Alien's blood, yet, but I'm fairly certain it's a disease." She spoke so softly that at first I didn't even realise she was talking. "I did..." Our conversation was interrupted as Sarge chose that moment to start shrieking.

"ARGH! STOP THINKING YOU, DIRTY, DIRTY, OLD MAN!" I laughed; partially, at her choice of words and partially because she's the only person in the universe other than SG-1 and General Hammond who would yell at Jack O'Neill.

"I didn't get a blood work on any of your team. It was a routine post-mission check-up. Nobody was exhibiting any weird symptoms that needed blood to be drawn. Nobody even realised there was a problem until Alien left," Dr. Fraiser continued as if the outburst had never happened.

"And that was after Private Harrison and Medic Bliss had already left," I said sighing. We both knew they had to be called back down for tests, but neither of us wanted to make that call.

"What is she doing?" Dr. Fraiser was staring down at Sarge. Somehow, she had managed to get out of her restraints and was talking to the remaining members of SG-1. Carrying her clothes, my 2IC began to creep toward the infirmary door. "Oh no, she doesn't!" Dr. Fraiser started as she moved toward the stairs, but I suddenly stopped her by putting my hand on her arm. I had no clue why I did it as we watched Sarge duck into a supply closet and close the door firmly behind her. I didn't even have time to count to five before the infirmary door swung open and in walked Dr. MacKenzie.

I'd never seen Sarge genuinely mad at anybody. Ticked off from time to time: yes. But she was always willing to forgive. Until she met Dr. Mac. I have no clue what he did to her, but everyone on the base knows what she _allegedly_ did to him. My 2IC (supposedly maliciously) drove Dr. Mac to be committed. How she did it is the stuff of legends; the only two people who know won't tell so everyone makes up their own version.

Dr. Mac stalked into the infirmary and looked around angrily. He turned to the men of SG-1 and snapped something at them that we couldn't hear from where we were. As one, they pointed out the door of the infirmary. Both of us jumped at his scream of rage as he stormed out of the infirmary; presumably, to find Sarge. After a ten count, the door to the storage closet opened and Sarge tiptoed out carrying her clothing. Dr. Fraiser and I tensed prepared to chase her out the door. Instead, she returned to her bed and sat on the edge.

"I need to get a blood sample," Dr. Fraiser said as she moved toward the door.

"Doctor..."

"Don't worry so much, Davis. Alien'll be fine." I followed her down the steps.

"Actually, I was gonna ask if Cassie liked her birthday present."

"What did you get her?" Dr. Fraiser asked.

"Um..."

"Oh, no! Davis, how could you have gotten her that Black Sabbath CD?"

"Sorry, Dr. Fraiser, but every kid needs to experience Ozzy back when he was still the Prince of F'in Darkness."

SG10SG10SG10SG10

I winced a little as I watched Dr. Fraiser pull the needle from Sarge's arm.

"Good job, Alien. I know how you feel about needles," Dr. Fraiser said. "And the infirmary. That's why I'm glad you're being so calm about having to stay here until we figure this out."

"CE QUI?" Sarge shrieked. "NO! NO! NO! We did not agree to stay in the infirmary! Do you know what we can do with this...new found ability? It's an amazing thing for an intelligence officer to have! We have to go test some of our theories while we have the chance!"

"No, Alien, you have to stay here until I can fix you," Dr. Fraiser said calmly and patiently.

"No! No d'enfer! We're not staying!" Sarge made a move to get up and I did the first thing that popped into my mind. I jumped on top of my 2IC and pinned her to the bed.

"I'm sorry, Sarge, but it's for your own good."

"We're sorry, too, sir." The next thing I knew she hit me and rolled me off the bed. I hit the floor on the side of the bed facing the door with a sick thud and blacked out for a second. Crouched on the floor, tears filling my eyes, clutching the offended area and barely able to breathe, I stared up at my 2IC. She had my 9mm and was pointing it at me. "Extremely sorry about that, sir, but it had to be done. For the good of the base, we can't let you keep us in here." Out the corner of my eye, I saw Teal'c try to get up. "Aray kree, big boy! Anybody moves and we _will_ shoot the lieutenant. "

"Davis, are you okay?" Dr. Fraiser asked concerned.

"Yes, ma'am. Just think she cracked my breastbone."

"Breastbone? Why the hell didn't she kick you in the balls?" a slightly amused voice asked. I tried to glare at Col. O'Neill, but it was too much of an effort.

"Because we didn't want to blow the building sky high, Sir." Sarge was still backing up toward the door making sure I was where she could shoot me. "If you don't mind us asking, sir...why do you _still_ have grenades in your boxers, if we're in the SGC?"

"Do you pay attention to the stuff that happens around here? Alien takeovers; diseases; general insanity; Hathor; this."

"Good point." And with that, Sarge was gone.

* * *

Please, remember: any criticism should be constructive. 


	3. Three

**A/N:** This is my first SG fic ever. I came home from the A.P. exam from hell and it was just screaming to come out. AU, because the only thing I ever remember them saying about SG-10 was they were the team that got sucked into the black hole. Obviously, this SG-10 is not that team. I'm thinking that they were probably the 'lost' team's replacements. Also, if SG-10 was investigating a black hole, I doubt they were a black ops unit. This SG-10 changed functions about the same time they were replacing the old team. Yes, Manda, Dionne Warwick is the psychic lady with the friends. Also, slight spoiler for Atlantis episode "38 Minutes." Slight as in, if you haven't seen it, you won't notice the spoiler.

This is unbetaed so I'm fairly certain all the characters you know and love are gonna by OOC. Tell me. I really want to get this right, so if my Jack does something stupid, tell me. Or if you don't like something. Or anything. Since I'm new at this I want you guys to help. Just be polite about it. Several people have given me ideas, so I've reworked it and am reuploading it. It's basically the same, but it's set up the way it is on my LJ. That means don't freak about it having more chapters, it's just the same chapters in smaller pieces.

On a totally unrelated matter, aren't all fanfics AUs? I mean, if we had to write them, it obviously didn't happen on the show and as such isn't canon.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Stargate. Gekko does. (That always makes me think of the little lizard with the British accent.) Some other people own it as well. They are all much richer. The basic ideas for this fic came from Danvers and Anais. Read the SG-15 stuff and Dr. Jackson's Diary. They are hilarious. Somebody warned me so I decided to put a blanket thing on all my stories (het, slash, gen,) Please, bring an open mind. Remember, everyone's life is not the same.

* * *

According to Dr. Fraiser, I'd be fine. I still couldn't breathe, though. _And _I was once again looking for my 2IC. General Hammond had given us the go ahead to lock down the Mountain and I was extremely thankful for that. It's hard enough to find her when she doesn't know she's being looked for; now, we had an even less chance of finding that damned needle. Why the hell did somebody put the stupid thing in the haystack, in the first place?

"Section C-3 clear." A voice said into the radio breaking me out of my ranting. I couldn't figure out to whom the voice belonged. We had the non-psychic members of SG-10, most of SG-3, Col. O'Neill, Teal'c, several scientists, about half the SFs, and the Russian team all looking for Sarge. We'd been looking for about an hour and hadn't had any luck yet. One of the scientists from Area 51 swore his files on his computer had been rearranged, but the colonels and I had decided that was B.S. Why would Alien screw with a greasy chemist from Area 51?

Suddenly, I heard three short bursts of static come across the radio. It was the signal that either Med. Bliss or Pvt. Harrison had found something, but couldn't say anything yet.

"Sir, it' Harrison. I foun' her. Archaeo. Lab 13. I don' have the leas' bit o' clue wha' she's doin,' but I don' like the looks." I groaned inwardly at him. The foreigners speak it, Sarge speaks it, the _aliens_ speak it. Why can't Harrison learn to speak English?

"Bliss."

"On my way."

SG10SG10SG10SG10

Archaeology Laboratory Thirteen was the primary laboratory for translations. Because of this, it had four different entrance points. We had set up a basic perimeter. Bliss at the door to her left; Harrison at the door to her right; I was at the door behind her. I gave the signal and using every ounce of our black op stealth, SG-10 crept into the room.

Unfortunately, we had forgotten a very important thing. Not that Sarge was an intelligence officer, that's why she had uncharacteristically run off. Not that Sarge was perfectly capable of killing us with her bare hands, that's why we were sneaking up on her. Not that Sarge was on our team, that's why it was us who were doing the sneaking. We forgot what we did.

In a blink of an eye, Sarge had rolled over the desk and pulled out a zat. Before I registered what was happening, she had shot all three of us. At least, she had the decency to shake her head sadly before picking a couple of books up off the table and walking out the door. Leaving me there to ponder _why_ I had forgotten we were black ops.

* * *

Please, remember: any criticism should be constructive. 


	4. Four

**A/N:** This is my first SG fic ever. I came home from the A.P. exam from hell and it was just screaming to come out. AU, because the only thing I ever remember them saying about SG-10 was they were the team that got sucked into the black hole. Obviously, this SG-10 is not that team. I'm thinking that they were probably the 'lost' team's replacements. Also, if SG-10 was investigating a black hole, I doubt they were a black ops unit. This SG-10 changed functions about the same time they were replacing the old team. Yes, Manda, Dionne Warwick is the psychic lady with the friends. Also, slight spoiler for Atlantis episode "38 Minutes." Slight as in, if you haven't seen it, you won't notice the spoiler.

This is unbetaed so I'm fairly certain all the characters you know and love are gonna by OOC. Tell me. I really want to get this right, so if my Jack does something stupid, tell me. Or if you don't like something. Or anything. Since I'm new at this I want you guys to help. Just be polite about it. Several people have given me ideas, so I've reworked it and am reuploading it. It's basically the same, but it's set up the way it is on my LJ. That means don't freak about it having more chapters, it's just the same chapters in smaller pieces.

On a totally unrelated matter, aren't all fanfics AUs? I mean, if we had to write them, it obviously didn't happen on the show and as such isn't canon.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Stargate. Gekko does. (That always makes me think of the little lizard with the British accent.) Some other people own it as well. They are all much richer. The basic ideas for this fic came from Danvers and Anais. Read the SG-15 stuff and Dr. Jackson's Diary. They are hilarious. Somebody warned me so I decided to put a blanket thing on all my stories (het, slash, gen,) Please, bring an open mind. Remember, everyone's life is not the same.

* * *

"Tell me you have good news, Doctor," I muttered extremely frustrated. Dr. Fraiser had called me in from the search; Sarge had been loose in the SGC for a little over five hours now and nobody had seen hide nor hair of her since she shot us in Archaeo. Lab. 13. (Now the greasy chemist from Area-51 was complaining that she had rearranged his desk, though.) It had gotten to the point where Davis and Siler were trying to calibrate the sensors to track her down. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but I was starting to get worried. When Dr. Fraiser had tried to keep O'Neill in the Mountain once, he had managed to get out using ventilation ducts. It wouldn't surprise me if Sarge knew how to do it, too. 

"I'm sorry, Davis. I don't have good news. I have _great_ news. I found the cure."

"What?" I started.

"Walk with me." Dr. Fraiser led me to where three men and three women were sitting on the beds. "Dr. Daniel Jackson, Major Paul Davis, Nyan, Major Sam Carter, Nurse Cathy Jennings, and Dr. Janice Leonard-Peace." I guess she was naming them. Honestly, I didn't care. "I injected them all with the disease that I found in Alien's bloodstream. Dr. Jackson, Maj. Davis, and Dr. Peace were fine. Nyan, Maj. Carter, and Nurse Jennings all started to exhibit...less severe versions of Alien's symptoms.

"So I began playing with Dr.s Jackson's and Peace's and Maj. Davis's blood. Come to find out they all had the same blood type. Alien's. Next, I ran a..."

"Dr. Fraiser, while I'm sure Medic Bliss would be loving this conversation, I'm not. Please, try to remember I blow things up for a living," I said tersely.

"The people who were fine all had a very large amount of caffeine in their blood stream. So I gave Nyan a cup of coffee. Eureka!" Dr. Fraiser said with the air of someone who'd figured out alchemy. "He was cured. The organism died of caffeine poison..."

"Oh my God," I interrupted. "I know what caused this." Dr. Jackson started to interrupt me, but I started talking over him. "There was this odd looking coffee pot thing. The translation read something like, 'In search of truth' or 'To see inside.' Something like that anyway."

"You think she got this from touching a coffee pot?" Dr. Jackson interrupted quickly.

"Yeah. I mean, yes, sir. We all touched it, but about 75 percent of the guys' and my blood is made out of coffee. That's why we're not affected and she is," I said feeling slightly upset that he kept trying to interrupt. She's my 2IC first. Then, she's his favorite translator.

"Gentlemen..." Dr. Fraiser said sternly as Dr. Jackson opened his mouth to speak again. "All we have to do is force feed Alien coffee and she'll be back to normal."

"How am I supposed to do that?" I snapped before realising where I was. "Sir."

"She's probably tired of being telepathic, now that the novelty's worn off. Tell her the truth; Alien'll know and come back with you." Both of us mentally added, _I hope_.

SG10SG10SG10SG10

I ended up having to broadcast over the main intercom. Asking a potentially insane, psychic, black ops agent to meet me in a secluded room while alone and unarmed has to be the stupidest thing I've ever done. Honestly, I was surprised when she met me.

"Hey, Sarge. Dr. Fraiser found a way to make you better." My 2IC stared at me. "You know I'm telling the truth."

"No. We know you _think_ you're telling the truth. Janet might have been lying to you to get us back in the infirmary." Well, when she put it like _that_.

"You have a point. Will you try anyway? You won't even have to change since you're still wearing those scrubs," I said mentally begging her. Sarge contemplated it for a minute.

"Eh. What've we got to lose? At the most, we have to break out of the infirmary again," my 2IC grinned.

"Um. No. I'm gonna put big, mean, huge, trigger-happy SFs around your bed. And Teal'c. And Dr. Mac." I said as I put my arm around her and we began walking toward the infirmary.

"And we're going to have to hurt those big, mean, huge, trigger-happy SFs around our bed. And Teal'c. And Dr. Mac...though, we'd probably hurt him just for the hell of it."

"That's my Sarge!" I said pretending to be teary-eyed.

* * *

Please, remember: any criticism should be constructive. 


	5. Five

**A/N:** This is my first SG fic ever. I came home from the A.P. exam from hell and it was just screaming to come out. AU, because the only thing I ever remember them saying about SG-10 was they were the team that got sucked into the black hole. Obviously, this SG-10 is not that team. I'm thinking that they were probably the 'lost' team's replacements. Also, if SG-10 was investigating a black hole, I doubt they were a black ops unit. This SG-10 changed functions about the same time they were replacing the old team. Yes, Manda, Dionne Warwick is the psychic lady with the friends. Also, slight spoiler for Atlantis episode "38 Minutes." Slight as in, if you haven't seen it, you won't notice the spoiler.

This is unbetaed so I'm fairly certain all the characters you know and love are gonna by OOC. Tell me. I really want to get this right, so if my Jack does something stupid, tell me. Or if you don't like something. Or anything. Since I'm new at this I want you guys to help. Just be polite about it. Several people have given me ideas, so I've reworked it and am reuploading it. It's basically the same, but it's set up the way it is on my LJ. That means don't freak about it having more chapters, it's just the same chapters in smaller pieces.

On a totally unrelated matter, aren't all fanfics AUs? I mean, if we had to write them, it obviously didn't happen on the show and as such isn't canon.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Stargate. Gekko does. (That always makes me think of the little lizard with the British accent.) Some other people own it as well. They are all much richer. The basic ideas for this fic came from Danvers and Anais. Read the SG-15 stuff and Dr. Jackson's Diary. They are hilarious. Somebody warned me so I decided to put a blanket thing on all my stories (het, slash, gen,) Please, bring an open mind. Remember, everyone's life is not the same.

* * *

"Dr. Fraiser!" I yelled.

"She's fine. Alien's sitting in her bed doing God only knows what..." Dr. Fraiser reassured me.

"Can I see her?" I interrupted before adding a cautious "Sir." The doctor hesitated a moment before answering.

"Sure, Davis. Just let me warn you..."

"Thanks, Doc, you're the greatest." I ran out of Dr. Fraiser's office making a mental promise to buy her a round sometime. I pushed through the privacy curtain to see Sarge sitting up in her bed typing away furiously on a laptop. "Hey, Sarge. Whatcha doin'?" I asked joyously. My 2IC was back to normal and I was a happy camper.

"Well, we finished our mission reports about the P8W-97A and the telepathy incidents. So now we're typing up Jamie's and Sniper's mission reports about the planet while they get to work on the telepathy ones. You know, sir, we still haven't gotten either one of your's. You should probably go work on that." Never once did she stop typing or look up at me.

"I'll...uh...I'll go do...that...now, Sarge." I slid out from behind the curtains, praying to every god I could think of that the talking thing wasn't permanent. It was almost like listening to somebody read a paper off the Internet where the author didn't know that the space bar had a purpose.

"I tried to warn you, Davis, " Dr. Fraiser sing-songed at me.

"Yes, sir, you did. How much coffee did you give her?"

"Not as much as you think," Dr. Fraiser said as she checked an SF's hand. Apparently, he had come into contact with Sarge during her 'we-will-not-go-back-you-can't-make-us' period. "She's only had two cups, but..." she shrugged as she stood up. "Alien is obviously sensitive to caffeine, too."

"At least, she isn't allergic to it," I said trying to find the silver lining. Dr. Fraiser smiled back. "I want to apologise for my earlier behaviour. There was no excuse. So...how about I buy you a drink to make up for it?"

"7:00. I want you to pick me up in here. Dress nice. Not BDUs or jeans. We're gonna have a girl's nite out, Davis." Dr. Fraiser beamed at me as she ushered me in her office and shut the door. "Sit down, Davis." I sat in the big, comfy chair I always sit in.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm _not_ a girl. So we can't have a girl's nite out."

"Call me, Janet, Davis." Her eyes did that weird twinkly thing and I realised she knew. "Besides, you don't have to be a girl to have a girl's nite out. You just have to appreciate hot guys in tight clothing...or little clothing...or no clothing."

"Janet..." I warned.

"I'm not asking and you're not telling. We're just...looking." I laughed at that. Janet wouldn't tell anybody; she was a friend. And she'd seen me naked more times that my mom.

"See you at seven, Janet." I walked out of her office and headed to Sarge's. Sarge's stuff was nicer than my own and I knew where she hid the Merlot. Huh, I wonder if she ever found out about the yoghurt.

**

* * *

A/N: I decided to do all my rambling down here. Davis and Alien are actually based on real people. **

Davis: Partially, my grammar obsessed sister who constantly tells me 'if all the Star Trek aliens can speak english, you can do it'. The rest of him is made up of John David, my english teacher, Casey, and Heather. Go figure.

Alien: The little outbursts are all me, sorry about that. The needle/infirmary hating is my sister. The yelling in multiple languages actually comes from my friend the physics/anthropology major, or Annie. The rest is the librarian at school, my other sister, my english teacher, and Ashley.

I love all the aforementioned people for letting me do this to them. MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Sorry. If I'm not careful, my inner meglomaniac tries to escape.

Please, review. And as always CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is respected. And most likely acted on.


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